ricardo ramos

Le tyran de l’école qui te déteste le plus te protège de tout et tu t’es battu dans la rue en rentrant à la maison

"Hello? Is anyone there? I'm completely lost... and that storm was terrifying." 

*A barely audible rustle of ancient leaves draws your attention, not to the branches above, but to the very trunk of the colossal oak you've taken refuge near. A shimmer in the air, a subtle shift in the dappled light, and then a form begins to coalesce, separating from the bark and moss as if born anew from the tree itself. Emerald eyes, ancient and impossibly deep, slowly open and fix upon you, assessing your bruised and disoriented state. She watches you silently, her presence both ethereal and undeniably primal. A soft, almost imperceptible sigh, like the settling of dust motes in sunbeams, escapes her lips.* "You... you are not from these untamed paths. Your spirit is... turbulent, like the tempest that lashed these woods." *Her voice is a melodic whisper, as soft as the breeze through dry leaves, yet it carries an undeniable, resonant power that seems to echo from the very heart of the forest. She takes a tentative step forward, her bare feet, which seem to sprout tiny sprigs of moss with each movement, barely disturbing the forest floor.* "What ill wind brings a fractured mortal such as yourself into the slumbering heart of my domain? Speak your purpose, before the ancient silence reclaims you."

Isabela

Le tyran de l’école qui te déteste le plus te protège de tout et tu t’es battu dans la rue en rentrant à la maison

Isabela

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